Das landhaus am Rhein. English

by Berthold Auerbach

  CHAPTER XIII.

  NOTHING BUT EYES.

  Two carriages were waiting at the landing. Manna received the embracesand kisses of her father without returning them, and watched, inapparent terror, the receding steamer, which, after quickly landing itspassengers, went swiftly on its way.

  "Your mother is in the carriage," said Sonnenkamp, offering Manna hisarm. She laid her hand timidly upon it, allowed herself to be led tothe glass carriage, in which sat Frau Ceres and Fraeulein Perini, and,taking her seat beside her mother, embraced her passionately.

  Sonnenkamp and Roland entered the other carriage, and all drove towardthe villa. The father muttered something to himself about not havingheard the sound of his daughter's voice.

  "Where is Eric?" asked Roland.

  "In the green cottage with his mother. It was considerate on the partof a stranger to retire to his own relations at such a time, and leavethe family alone."

  Roland was struck by the words. Were Eric and his family strangers?

  On arriving at the villa, Fraeulein Perini also withdrew hastily, andwent to the Priest's house, whence a messenger was soon despatched tothe telegraph station.

  The parents were alone with their children, but there seemed a chill inthe room which banished all feeling of quiet and comfort.

  Sonnenkamp and Roland took Manna to her room, where she was pleased tofind everything in its old place, and, at sight of the open fire-placefilled with beautiful growing plants, turned to her father and thankedhim, offering him her hand for the first time, and kissing his; but shecould not repress a shudder at touching the ring on his thumb.

  When Roland was left alone with his sister, he urged her to visit hisgrandmother and aunt that very day; but Manna reproved him for givingsuch names to persons not really related to him.

  "Ah, but you must love them too," said Roland.

  "Must? One can love nobody upon compulsion. Let me tell you, Roland--but no; there is no need."

  She yielded at last to his persuasions, and went with him through thenew gateway in the garden wall, along the meadows by the shore.

  "There goes Eric; I will call him. Eric! Eric!" cried Roland in a loudvoice.

  The figure did not turn, however, but kept on, and presentlydisappeared among the shrubbery.

  Roland and Manna found the Professorin waiting for them upon the steps,and Manna received a hearty welcome.

  "He gave me no peace till I consented to come to you," said Manna.

  "So he makes you mind like the rest of us, does he?" said the lady withmock severity. "Let me tell you, my dear child, that I know this wildboy has said a great deal to you about me, and would like to force youto love me; but even the best intentioned urgency in such mattersshould be avoided. Glad as I shall be if we can be good friends, we yetwill not be forced upon each other."

  Manna looked in amazement on the Mother, who asked a great manyquestions about the convent, and advised her to remain much alone, asthe sudden change from a life of seclusion to one of excitement mightinjure her habits of thought, as well as her health.

  Manna felt herself cheered by intercourse with this quiet, composed,harmonious nature; only the room looked strange to her with no imagesof saints about. Her attention was attracted by the sewing-machine, andthe Mother had readily consented to instruct her in the use of it whenAunt Claudine entered, whose dignified bearing interested Manna evenmore than the Mother had done.

  "You and Aunt Claudine," exclaimed Roland, "have two things in common.She is a star gazer like you, and plays the harp as you do."

  Aunt Claudine did not require much urging, but willingly played Manna apiece on the harp.

  "I shall be very grateful if you will accept me as a pupil," said Mannaoffering her hand; and the beautiful nervous hand which grasped hersgave her more pleasure by its touch, than she had found in the softlittle plump one of the Professorin.

  When it grew evening, the Mother and Aunt set out with Roland and Mannatowards the villa, Manna walking with the Aunt, and Roland with theProfessorin. On the way Eric met them.

  "At last!" cried Roland. "Now, Manna, here he is; here you have him."

  Manna and Eric exchanged formal bows.

  "Why don't you speak? Have you both lost your tongue? Eric, this is mysister Manna; Manna, this is my friend, my brother, my Eric."

  "Don't be excited, Roland," said Eric, and there was a ringing tone inhis voice that made Manna involuntarily raise her eyes to him. "Yes,Fraeulein, this is the second time I have met you in the twilight."

  Manna almost began to say that she had seen him once in broad daylight,when she had not spoken to him, but had heard inspiring notes from him;but she checked herself and pressed her lips together. Roland broke thepause that ensued, by saying urgently:--

  "Come into the house; then you will see one another by lamplight. It isjust a year ago, this hour, since I ran away; can it be only a year?Ah, Manna, you cannot imagine how many hundred years I have livedthrough in this one. I am as old as the hills, as old as that laughingSprite the groom told me about."

  He repeated the story to his two willing listeners. When he had ended,Eric announced his intention of staying till the next day with hismother, for every one who was not a blood relation was a stranger atsuch a time as this. Roland would hear nothing of his being a stranger,but Manna's eyes as they gleamed in the darkness seemed to grow larger.

  At the new gateway the party divided, Roland and his sister going tothe villa, and Eric returning to the green cottage with his mother andaunt. For the second time he had seen Manna, and for the second timeshe had seemed nothing but eyes.

  How strange that this man should look like the picture of SaintAnthony, thought Manna, when she was alone in her room; there seemed tome no point of resemblance between them; some passing look of his, anexpression of his eyes, must have reminded Roland of the picture; shetoo had seen nothing of Eric but his tall figure and his eyes.

  She knelt long in prayer, and as she took off her clothes afterwards,she drew more tightly round her waist a girdle--only a little cord itwas, which one of the nuns had given her--so tightly that it cut intoher flesh.